


Fish Food

by entanglednow



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mermaid Crowley, Mermaid Sex, Xeno, fish anatomy, inhuman anatomy, mofu bingo 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29426373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: It's a private beach, no trespassing allowed. Which makes it the perfect place for Aziraphale and Crowley to meet.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 383
Collections: MoFu Bingo 2021





	Fish Food

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Monster Fucker Bingo prompt #2 Mythical Creatures

It's a private beach, no trespassing allowed.

That doesn't always stop people, but there are very few ways to get down to the water here, at least not without being spotted from half a mile away. It had seemed as safe as they could hope for. Since getting caught would have been disastrous in so many ways for the both of them.

Aziraphale makes his way down the dock on bare feet. At high tide it stretches out into the sea, the supports disappearing as the wooden boards are lapped by the waves. He sits down at the end, bare legs sliding into the chilly water. It seeps quickly through his shorts as well, and the spread of his hands when he sets them down. He stares out into the rolling blue waves and he waits.

Crowley is sometimes late but that's understandable, he has much farther to come. Aziraphale has never had to wait more than an hour for him, but it's usually less.

It's not even half that long before the water is broken a few metres from his feet by the curve of a head, vibrant rust-coloured hair slicked to pale skin. Below that is the line of a narrow nose and deep yellow eyes, the black pupils slit vertically like a snake's.

"Hello you." Aziraphale's voice is soft, warm with relief and affection. No matter how many times Crowley comes back to him, it always feels like the first time. He'd never imagined he could love like this. That something could be so wonderfully strange and so perfectly treasured.

Crowley cuts through the water until he can wrap a cold, long-fingered hand around Aziraphale's ankle, a prick of nails and a shimmer of iridescent skin, the texture of the grip slightly tacky. Aziraphale leans down when Crowley surges upwards. It's so easy to win a tangle of long soaking hair between his fingers, a wet mouth hiding dangerously sharp teeth pressed gently against his own. He can feel the heavy sway of Crowley in his arms, buoyed by the waves, and his own tail twisting and weaving in the cold water.

"I missed you," Aziraphale bites out between kisses. "God, I missed you." 

"Prove it," Crowley says in his wavering hiss of a voice, a voice designed to force sound through water rather than air. "Show me."

Aziraphale can't help the laugh. "Greedy thing, come on up then." 

He shuffles out of the way so Crowley can stretch up and lay his webbed hands on the dock, hauling himself out of the water. It's a long movement, Crowley's pretence of humanity ends at the waist, where instead of flesh there's the slick shimmering stretch of his tail, some strange mix between fish and eel, almost nine feet long. The colour of it shades all the way from a pale iridescent apple-green to an emerald so dark it's almost black. It's decorated with swim fins here and there, and capped by the floating darts of a fragile fanned tail fin.

Crowley hits the boards on his back, seawater and the natural slime that coats his body washing across the wood and spattering upwards against Aziraphale's chest and arms.

He gives that clicking bark of a laugh at Aziraphale's reaction to being sprayed, then lifts wet hands to drag him down. Though in truth it's more of a fall against the slippery skin and scales of Crowley's body. Aziraphale's hands folding carefully around the skin above his waist, just below where his ribs start, the lowest three housing a space between for the slitted openings of his gills.

Crowley can only stay out of the water for twenty minutes before it becomes a struggle for air. Aziraphale had worried at first that spending so much time out of it wasn't good for him, but Crowley won't be put back in the sea until he's good and ready. He draws Aziraphale in tighter, soaks the hair on his naked chest, the soft roll of his stomach, the solid lengths of both arms. Holding him is a messy business, but Aziraphale loves it. The rhythmic, steady wet slap of Crowley's tail against the boards splashes water over them both. It's half eagerness and half instinctive pushing movements when out of the water.

"Dry thing you are," Crowley purrs, and it feels like a tease. "Like a seabird." A tousle of Aziraphale's curls is slow and fond, though not quite as fascinated as at the beginning. Crowley has had more than long enough to learn the textures of him.

Aziraphale loves the way Crowley feels, he always has done, that alien sleekness, the chill that turns to warmth if you laid your hands on his skin or scales for long enough. To call him a mermaid sounds too fanciful, the word still evoking a laugh after almost a year. But he'll acknowledge that no other word fits him as well, his beautiful sea snake.

They kiss on the boards, Aziraphale the only one of them who needs to breathe through their mouth. A fact which Crowley still finds amusing, trying to keep him until the last moment, when he has to break away with a gasp.

"Will you taste me?" Crowley asks. The words are gritty and eager. "It's not the only thing I miss." He stops, long sentences have always been difficult for him. "Not the only thing about you I miss." His pupils narrow, a sharp smile opening. "But I do miss it."

Aziraphale presses a kiss to his throat, humming his assent and carefully straddling the lower half of Crowley's tail. He sinks down, bare knees sliding on the wet wood until he reaches the mermaid's waist, goes lower, finds the folded curve of his anal fin and gently lifts it out of the way. Crowley's body underneath is an apple-green so pale it's almost white, but there are two small orifices in the hidden space, the round pale pink of his anus and slightly above it the deeper pink of his genital opening.

Aziraphale sinks over him, the heat of his mouth closing over the higher breach into Crowley's body. The skin around it is wet and sharp with seawater. But Crowley's sex is warm, the small tight space sensitive to the way Aziraphale gently trails his tongue around it, feeling the brief confused clench it gives in expectation of another opening pressed against it. It's not prepared to be gently tongued, to be sucked and spread carefully open. There's a warm rush of sharp-tasting fluid into Aziraphale's mouth, accompanied by a high, rasping hiss, and Crowley's nails claw at the boards, the end of his tail slapping a fast rhythm against the soaking wood. 

Aziraphale knows how to please him and it still thrills him. They'd wondered at the beginning how they could possibly be compatible. If they could ever have a sort of intimacy - but the way Crowley trembles and shakes and flaps as Aziraphale rubs his tongue across the slick heat of his sex. It's a tribute to experimentation, and determination.

He slides his hands upwards, grasps the human part of Crowley's waist, thumbs drifting on skin as smooth as the inside of a shell. A webbed hand reaches down to touch him in turn, strong fingers tangling in his hair.

"Az-ra-phl." His name breaks as Crowley loses half his carefully voiced letters, as he squirms under Aziraphale's mouth and between his hands. A quick look upwards confirms that the mermaid's pupils have expanded fully, like black coins meant to see through the depths. His wet hair is drying in the air, turning to gentle waves that cling to his cheeks and jaw.

He is beautiful, and he is Aziraphale's.

Crowley's genital opening is relaxed enough now for careful thrusts of tongue, probing licks and the occasional hard suck. Crowley's body, not designed to expect any of the sensations, wriggles and stretches in bliss, the heavy muscle of his tail sliding and flapping against Aziraphale's legs. Fluid pulses and leaks from him in a desperate attempt to sate the ache, only to encourage Aziraphale to probe deeper - then to slip down and lick around the tight ring of Crowley's anus. 

The jerk of delight nearly throws them both in the water and Aziraphale spends a moment laughing into the beautiful tail he has a hold on. Crowley can't seem to help the short clicks of amusement either, but there are wet hands in Aziraphale's wild curls, tugging at them where the thicker webbed skin stretches between his fingers. They angle him back to where Crowley is more easily pleased, his anal fin coiling and tugging upwards with a flex of muscle.

The movement stretches his body open wider, the reddened flush of him briefly obscene. It leaves Aziraphale groaning, hard-pressed to ignore his own arousal, or how obvious the stiffness of it must be against Crowley's tail.

"Greedy thing." Aziraphale lays a wet sucking kiss to Crowley's sex, now obviously swollen with arousal and dribbling fluid. He can't resist bringing a hand down, twinning slow licks into his genital opening with gentle but steady pressure to the ring of his anus with a fingertip. Crowley's tail thrashes, sliding wetly on the wood and his low, deep hisses vibrate through Aziraphale in a way that leaves his own dick throbbing where it's still cramped in his shorts.

Neither orifice is designed to stretch very far, though Aziraphale had once managed to carefully slip a finger all the way into Crowley's anus, much to his hissing delight. He'd been wondering idly whether a small vibrator would be pleasing for him - assuming he could find one that could cope with being regularly soaked. But now he can't help but consider all the uses they could put a dildo too as well. Crowley's sharp nails and webbed fingers weren't really designed to go in anywhere safely. But the thought of introducing him to a toy that he could be in control of, that he could use on Aziraphale. He can't help but think Crowley would like that - demanding, greedy thing that he was.

He breathes a hot burst of air into his lover at the thought, thrusting a gentle fingertip in and out of Crowley while he rubs his tongue over that beautifully teased opening.

He works at it in a haze of dizzy pleasure, until Crowley croaks a quick inhale, his gills fluttering - it's a sharp reminder that they don't have all the time in the world. When Aziraphale lifts his head to check there's a breathless sort of look to his beautiful sea serpent. It leaves him pushing down his shorts and stretching up over him. The slick of Crowley's tail is warm enough from his skin not to be a shock against the stiff, naked length of Aziraphale's cock when he presses their bodies together, one hand squirming around himself so he can tug it in quick, aching pulls.

Crowley grips his waist with sharp nails and draws him down to kiss, his lips and cheeks gone pale. He can't make words any more, but he croaks out encouragement and impatience, as if the thought of going back into the water without finishing this is unthinkable.

Aziraphale's mouth still tastes of him, a sharp, briny sweetness that will stay on his tongue for hours.

Crowley gives a clicking burst of air.

~ hurry up ~

They've been doing this for long enough that Aziraphale has to laugh, bracing himself on one arm as he pulls on his cock faster, the sight of Crowley's flushed sex, warm and swollen from his mouth, is enough to push him all the way over. He moans a broken version of Crowley's name, his hand slowing as he comes in thick pulses. He watches wet lines of it splash over Crowley's genital opening and anus, white against green and pink. Aziraphale can't resist touching it, smearing himself into both holes in slow, gentle rubs. 

Crowley gives a punching trill of satisfaction and stretches up for him, mouth hard. But there's a wheeze in his chest, his gills pulling frantically open and shut between his ribs.

Aziraphale presses their foreheads together.

"Come on, beautiful, back in the water."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Fanart] Fish Food](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476188) by [SkyAsimaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyAsimaru/pseuds/SkyAsimaru)




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